Simonsen got up and went over to the window.
“All of you take note: you must not contact Falkenborg directly. At the moment I do not wish him to know that we have him in our sights. There is one last thing—Malte and the Countess have convinced me of the benefits of exchanging the bulletin board for the computer while we research our suspect’s life. Malte will make a website, password-protected obviously, and the idea is that we will gradually fill it out as information comes in. He has sent you all an email about how to participate, and you can log in and continuously monitor progress for yourselves, see how far we’ve come. As you know, I’m a bit of a diehard when it comes to the blessings of information technology, but in this case I want to give it a try.”
“It’s also the only correct way to do it.”
Pedersen’s comment earned him a bad-tempered glance from Simonsen, which his colleague simply sneered at. Simonsen concluded.
“Malte should be here now, so he’ll probably arrive in fifteen minutes. You should get going unless you have any questions?”
He paused and looked around the team.
“Which does not seem to be the case. Okay, great, have a good day. Pauline, you stay here, I have a couple of things I want to discuss with you.”
The men got up and left the office. Pauline Berg remained seated, unsure whether being asked to stay behind should be interpreted positively or negatively—an uncertainty that was quickly eliminated.
“How long was it between you learning the name Andreas Falkenborg and letting me in on it?”
She tried to wriggle out of answering the question.
“Well, it’s hard to say exactly.”
“Measured in hours and minutes, and without any evasions, please. I don’t have time for that.”
“Nine hours and a few minutes.”
“Yes, that fits very well with what I came up with myself.”
He stepped behind her and placed one hand on her shoulder.
“I really ought to lecture you, Pauline. Tell you about twenty colleagues of yours wasting time visiting old DYE-5 employees yesterday afternoon—which they didn’t do, however, because Arne is more responsible than you are. But I have neither the time nor the desire to hang you out to dry. I also spoke with the Countess yesterday, and she very rightly pointed out that personnel management and development interviews and that sort of thing are not my strong suit, so as an alternative I have chosen to give you a very quick introduction to—”
Just then Malte Borup came crashing into the office, out of breath and sweaty, with a laptop computer in one hand and a six-pack of Coke in the other. Konrad Simonsen sent him out again and continued his lecture, though a good deal faster and less forcefully than he had originally intended.
“Have you ever wondered why you were hired here in Homicide, and in particular why almost from the first day you were included among the few I consult the most? You don’t really think it was down to your intelligence and good looks, do you?”
Pauline Berg turned painfully red.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s because you are young and ambitious. Your age gives you a perspective on things that the rest of us don’t always have, and ambition is a necessity in any career—otherwise you learn too slowly. When I was twenty-seven myself, I dreamed of solving a great mystery all alone. I thought I was unique in those thoughts, so I kept them to myself. Later I discovered that all my colleagues that age shared the same fantasy.”
“I’m that way too,” she admitted.
“Really? Well, things clearly haven’t changed much. Later I learned that it was acceptable to take personal initiatives if I was the only one who paid the price, and also if I reported back important results promptly—which is to say about two minutes after I achieved them. In the interests of truth I must regretfully admit that I learned that lesson the hard way. Once I sat on the name of a perpetrator for two days before my boss exposed me. And do you know what happened then?”
She shook her head.
“I got bawled out so badly the hair was almost blown off my head, so luckily for you it seems some things have changed. Pauline, look at me.”
She obeyed.
“Next time . . . and I am in no doubt that there will be a next time, because this talk does not change the fact that you were completely outstanding yesterday . . . next time inform me promptly. Are we in agreement?”
“Yes, we’re in agreement. And sorry.”
“Hmm, I thought I had copyright in that word. Go and do your work. Start by typing up the two witness interviews you did yesterday, if you haven’t already done so.”
She got up and left, aware that she had been let off easily. In the doorway she turned around.
“Thanks.”